


Punk!Watanuki

by juniperberry



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Early Work, Multi, Polyamory, Slash, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 04:40:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperberry/pseuds/juniperberry
Summary: xxxHolic + too much Post Punk Kitchen + the Poison Girls = this.





	Punk!Watanuki

**Necessary Things**

Haruka eyed the earring in his hand. The boy in front of him was maybe fifteen, a proper high school freshman in an immaculate uniform, seated formally and showing a great deal of respect.

He had seen how the young man had run into the temple, frantic to escape the spirits that chased him. They still lurked outside, waiting, eager and hungry. The boy must taste quite delicious to them if they risked staying so close to Haruka's wards.

"I realize it's a very weird request," the boy said, "but the woman I saw said it would work out in the end, but I had to have a ward on me that I wouldn't remove everyday."

"I know her," Haruka said, smiling a little. "I'm a little surprised she sent you here with this, though."

The boy was blushing and he looked rather miserable. "It's weird," he said. "But if it'll keep them away...."

Haruka looked at him shrewdly. "You're going to get one of her tattoos, aren't you?" he asked, and smiled when the boy squeaked. "It's all right. A good idea for you, actually." He looked at the earring in his hand again. "I can ward this for you, but I will require payment."

"Ah," the boy said, and looked down at his clenched fists. "I can't pay with any money," he said. "I'm going to be working for Yuuko-san part time as it is, and all my money goes to buy food, that sort of thing...."

"I understand," Haruka said. "Can you do chores, or something like that?"

"Er," the boy said. "I'm not a bad cook. Yuuko-san is always asking me to make something before I come to work."

"I trust her judgment," Haruka said. "I'll ward this if you'll make me something nice to eat for lunch."

The boy looked up at him and smiled. "I can do that," he said.

***

**Petitioner**

Shizuka had never seen a young man his age look like this, not at the temple or anywhere else.

"Hey, I asked you a question," the boy said. He was about eighteen, dressed in an old t-shirt for a long-disbanded band (called “The Stalin,” of all things) and jeans with almost more holes than fabric, and plenty of loose, hanging threads. He also had a great many more holes in his head than Shizuka did, and streaks of blue running through his black hair. "Is Doumeki Haruka-san here or not?"

"...No," Shizuka said. "He passed away a month ago."

The boy's face changed, from guarded and belligerent to stunned and sorry. "That's horrible," he said, and his voice was quiet. "He was a good man."

"He was," Shizuka agreed quietly. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Er," the boy said, and fished a hand into his pocket. He pulled out a curved bar, studded at both ends with little metal balls.

"My name is Watanuki Kimihiro, and I'm getting another piercing," he said. "Haruka-san always warded my studs."

Shizuka looked him over. Watanuki had six holes in each ear, ranging from small studs to relatively thick loops. He had an eyebrow piercing, with spikes instead of balls, which managed not to conflict with his glasses, and a round loop curving over his lower lip. And Shizuka was not entirely certain, but he thought he might have seen a tongue piercing, too.

"...What else are you going to pierce?" He asked, partially out of curiosity and partially out of sarcasm. There didn't seem to be a whole lot left, really.

"My navel, if you must know," Watanuki growled. "Can you ward it or not?"

Shizuka gave him a flat stare. "Of course," he said. "My grandfather taught me how."

"Great." The boy thrust the metal bar at him. "I'll pay you in trade, since pretty much all my money goes to Yuuko-san."

Shizuka took the bar, and weighed it in his hand, trying not to think of what Watanuki would look like without his shirt and a metal bar through the flesh above his belly button. "Who's Yuuko-san?"

"My tattoo artist," the boy answered. "She does my tattoos with spells that keep them away, like the wards in my piercings."

"Them?"

Watanuki shifted, looking quite uncomfortable. "Ghosts," he said at last. "Spirits, monsters, demons, kappas--all sorts of things. They think I'm tasty."

Shizuka raised an eyebrow. "I can ward this," he said. "What were you going to pay for it?"

Watanuki glowered at him. "I used to cook Haruka-san lunch," he said tartly. "If that's not what you'll accept, I can also sew, knit, crochet, garden, fix a leaky sink, tune up a car engine and do a little carpentry." He pointed to one of the sewn-on patches holding his jeans together, that said _FIX SHIT UP_. "DIY, you know."

"Ah," Shizuka said. "Inarizushi, today."

"Oka--wait, what do you mean, today?"

"I've never done a ward on a metal bar before," Shizuka answered patiently. "I know the gist of it, but I'll have to do research and make sure I know what I'm doing first. It'll be more than one day. So today I want inarizushi."

Watanuki's mouth dropped open, and he very nearly shrieked. "How long will I have to come here and feed you for one damn bar?!"

"Shut up," Shizuka said, plugging up on of his ears with his free hand. "However long it takes."

"You greedy, conformist, capitalistic, mainstream _tool_!"

"Too loud," was all Shizuka said, and led the way to the kitchen.  
***

**Dumpster Diving**

"Do you always go digging in dumpsters?"

Watanuki growled to himself. "I only do it for a good cause," he barked, and watched as that--that tool just shoved a free finger into his ear. "And don't ask me questions if you're just going to ignore me!"

"You're too loud," the other boy said. He was dressed in a school uniform, from what Watanuki could tell--it looked like a private school uniform. Figured.

"I'm dumpster diving, you ass," Watanuki said, deciding to grace this ignorant jerk with a little inside information. "This store throws out all sorts of perfectly good produce at the end of the day--all it needs is a good wash with a little, tiny bit of bleach to kill the germs, and it's perfectly edible." He paused. “Well, it helps to peel it, too.”

The boy from the temple--Doumeki--just stared at him. His face was so blank that Watanuki couldn't tell if he was impressed or interested or disgusted. Expressionless twit.

"Why do they throw it out if it's good?"

"Because they won't sell it if it's old," Watanuki said, as he dug through the trash. "Even if its something like apples, they'd rather throw it out than give it away. Isn't that stupid?" He found a plastic bag, which looked totally sealed, full of perfectly good apples. "See? This is what I mean. I'll take these home, wash them, peel them, and take them to the park tomorrow."

"What's going on tomorrow?"

"Food Not Bombs," Watanuki said. "I think I've got enough for tomorrow. I'll leave the rest of this for others." He turned and began hauling himself out of the dumpster. Doumeki had wandered closer.

"There's other stuff in there," he said. "Why are you leaving it?"

"There's homeless people that have to eat, too," Watanuki said, crabbily stuffing the apples and oranges he'd found into a cloth grocery sack. "And I know a group of freegans that live up the street. They need food." He slung the sack over his shoulder. "I'll go give them a head's up on my way home," he said, half to himself.

"They won't care that you stink?"

Watanuki snarled and whirled on Doumeki, who just regarded him with that same bland expression. "They're freegans, you creep. Do you even know what that means?" All right, he did stink, but it would wash off--it wasn't like he didn't bathe, just because he dumpster dived!

"No," Doumeki said, shrugging. "The temple's this way, though. I'll walk with you."

"You--I didn't ask you to come!"

Doumeki didn't look terribly impressed with Watanuki's very valid points. "How is the bar working?" he asked, setting the pace at a sedate lope. Watanuki scrambled to catch up.

"It's fine," he said. "Look, don't you have somewhere to be--I don't know, stopping traffic with that face or conducting a funeral or something?"

"No," Doumeki said blithely. "What's Food Not Bombs?"

"An anti-war, anti-hunger group," Watanuki said irritably. "A group of us meet a couple of times a week, and we make a bunch of food and feed the homeless down in the poor side of town. Tomorrow we're using Himawari-chan's kitchen!" Himawari always made him smile, since she was so cheerful and cute!

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Eh?" Watanuki shook his head. "Oh, no. I mean, if she wanted me to be, I guess...but no, she isn't. She's already...involved."

"Ah," Doumeki said. Watanuki slowed his steps the closer they came to the house he was thinking of.

"Stay here," he said, "the last thing I need is my reputation tarnished because I'm hanging out with you."

Doumeki just raised an eyebrow at him, apparently unoffended. Watanuki rolled his eyes and grumbled all the way up to the door of the small house.

"Oh, Watanuki-san!" A young girl opened the door, dressed in a well-patched jean skirt with striped socks and an equally striped shirt. Her hair was cropped short, and hung around her face in pink and black locks. A large dog peered around her legs. He gave Watanuki a doggy smile.

"Hi, Yuzuriha-chan," he said. "I just thought I'd tell you--the green grocer's down the street dumped out a ton of really good apples and oranges. I thought you and Kusanagi-san would want to know."

"Ooh, yeah!" she said, bouncing on her toes. "Inuki can keep watch tonight for any policemen." She clapped her hands, her hair swinging against her cheeks. "Thanks! We'll see you tomorrow at the usual place, right?"

"Right," he said, and she squealed a little.

"I'll go tell Kusanagi-san right now," she said, and dashed into the house. Watanuki smiled a little to himself and pulled the door shut.

Doumeki was waiting across the street, as though he had nothing else better to do, which couldn't truly be the case. Watanuki glared at him.

"The navel bar works great," he said, growling a little. "You can go now."

Doumeki just looked at him and blinked. Watanuki stalked off home. If the idiot wanted to follow him, he could just trot along after the great Watanuki-sama!

***

**Gardening**

The next time Shizuka saw Watanuki, it was the beginning of spring. He and the be-pierced, tattooed punk boy had crossed paths at the oddest times over the past several months, and each time Shizuka found he couldn't bring himself to be unhappy about the day Watanuki had stumbled into the temple looking for Doumeki Haruka.

Not, he thought, that Watanuki was ever honestly happy to see him. Still, Watanuki had snarled at him less as the months went on, and he had almost come to consider Shizuka something of a semi-permanent fixture in his neighborhood, if not his life--he had at least stopped telling his friends that Shizuka had followed him home like a stray puppy.

Spring brought the sight of Watanuki, in jeans with a bit more fabric than hanging threads, covered in mud and small seeds.

"There's an urban garden," he said. "Kudou and Himura are down there working it still, and so is Himawari-chan, but I need to get more seeds."

"Ah." Shizuka leaned against a pillar of the temple, dressed in his usual gi. "And?"

"And," Watanuki gritted out, "I'm still paying Yuuko-san for that last tattoo, so I don't have any money. If you want, I suppose I can go and tarnish my karma by stealing some seeds from a store, but I'd rather just subject myself to your ingratitude toward my cooking."

Shizuka took his time parsing through that sentence. "So if I buy you some seeds," he said, "you'll make me lunch?"

"Didn't I just say that?!"

"Sure."

Watanuki paused. "'Sure,' what?"

"Sure, I'll buy your seeds. I want feudal udon tomorrow."

Watanuki's face turned red, and he got that pinched look around his eyes that said he was going to start yelling. Shizuka mentally readied his fingers.

"I CAN'T MAKE SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T EXIST, YOU ASS!"

~~~

In the end they had bought nearly four thousand yen worth of seeds. Eggplant, daikon, greens, carrots, onions, kabocha squash, various herbs. Watanuki bundled the packets up with string and packed them away in a bag. Shizuka wondered where they would have the space to plant it all in a place as crowded as Tokyo.

"Don't worry about it," was all Watanuki would say. He led Shizuka to their plot--a big empty lot in a very bad neighborhood, but full of people gardening and turning the ground into a big brown, muddy mess.

"Oi, Himura," Watanuki called, and pitched a bundle of seed packets at a tall, broad shouldered boy. He caught them and grinned.

"Not bad, April Fool," he said. Watanuki growled at him.

"See if I buy him seeds again," he muttered to Shizuka. "Kudou must have gone somewhere else if he's ragging on me." He stopped and gave another bundle of seeds to a girl with brown hair falling into her green eyes.

"Here's the squash you wanted, Sakura-chan," he said. She smiled brightly.

"Thank you, Watanuki-kun!" she said. "Syaoran will be so happy to see this."

They went on like that, giving this person or that a bundle of seeds. Yuzuriha was ecstatic over her bundle, and gleefully showed it to the large, muscled man who was gently turning over the soil.

"Here's your seeds, Himawari-chan," Watanuki said, as he handed a bundle to a girl with long, tied-back, black-and-pink-and-green pigtails. She gave him a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun, though the day was overcast and cloudy.

“Thanks, Watanuki-kun!” she said.

"No problem, Himawari-chan," he said, and Shizuka wondered if he'd melt, he was so putty-like. Himawari apparently didn't notice, as she turned to him and smiled.

"You helped get the seeds, right, Doumeki-kun?"

"I paid for them," he said. She grinned at them.

"And Watanuki-kun will pay you back with lunches, right? You're so lucky!"

"Ahahaha," Watanuki laughed, apparently giddy at the idea of Himawari thinking so highly of his cooking. Shizuka had tasted Watanuki's cooking, so he knew it was worth it.

"There's still a few more people who need seeds," Watanuki said, bidding good-bye to Himawari and leading Shizuka past an number of other people. Almost everyone got a bundle of seed packets, and those that didn't had packets or a few seeds given to them by those that did. Shizuka wondered what the aura of the place would look like to one with Sight, like his grandfather. It wasn't a bad place--not the way Watanuki was smiling and chatting and nearly humming with positive energy.

"That's the last one," Watanuki said at last. "Now I can start getting my plot ready."

Shizuka raised an eyebrow. "You haven't started yet?"

Watanuki turned red. "Well, Obaachan over there needed some help, and Syaoran-kun hadn't shown up to help Sakura-chan, and Himawari-chan's plot needs to be big enough for three people, and--"

"And you got so busy helping other people that you didn't start your own plot," Shizuka said, and waited until Watanuki nodded. "Idiot."

"I'm not an idiot!" Watanuki grumbled. "And they did mark it off for me." He pointed, and Shizuka took in the bare space, marked off with a line drawn in the mud and a shovel propped against the nearest derelict building, a kerchief tied around the handle. "That's Syaoran-kun's," Watanuki said. "And I should still be able to get a lot done--"

"I'll help," Shizuka said. Watanuki sputtered at him, like a reluctant car engine on a cold day.

"You--you don't--I'm not--"

Shizuka picked up the shovel. "We start with digging, right?"

***

**Volunteering**

Watanuki had refused to let Shizuka help out with the 'Food Not Bombs' project. "Your face would scare the hungry away," was how he put it, but it wasn't until later that Shizuka wondered if it wasn't Watanuki's bizarre way of being protective.

"Excuse me! Excuse me, is Doumeki Shizuka here?"

Shizuka came to the door just in time to hear his mother--who, while loving to her family, was not known for her love of anyone outside of the middle class, or indeed, out of the norm--tell the girl to go away.

"If you tell me he's dating you, I won't believe it," she warned, and Shizuka caught a glimpse of the girl standing in front of their door. She was about his own age, and even more outlandishly dressed than Watanuki had been the first time he'd seen him; her boots were tall and lace-up, she wore short black shorts, and there were studded leather straps around her wrists and throat. Her hair fell down her back in two long, bright blue pigtails, and she wore a black tank-top, with a mesh shirt over it.

"I'm not dating her, Mother," he said, giving his mother a nod. "But I think she needs to talk to me."

His mother huffed. She disapproved of Watanuki, but Watanuki at least cooked good food and was perfectly polite. He didn't know if he could say the same for this girl. His mother retreated inside, and he shut the front door behind him.

"What is it?"

"It's Watanuki," she said. "The cops broke up our meeting at the park."

"Does he need bail money?" Such things had been mentioned once or twice in Shizuka's hearing.

The girl shook her head. "He needs a doctor," she said, "but he says he still owes Yuuko-san too much money, and he won't go near a hospital because of the spirits."

Shizuka looked at her sharply as soon as she said 'doctor.' "Let me get my shoes," he said.

~~~

"A cop caught him across the face," the girl—who had introduced herself as Maru--had said. "One of the cop's rings or something caught his lip ring and ripped it out. Now he's freaking out because he's bleeding and even with all his wards it draws spirits to him like flies on honey."

Shizuka had kept pace with her, not easy when she was practically running and talking at the same time. "Why won't he go to a hospital?"

"Same reason," she had said. "Spirits swarm there--the freshly dead, the freshly killed, the natural spirits of the area, anything called up by anger and frustration and grief...."

"I see," Shizuka had said, and had saved his breath for the rest of the run.

She led him through numerous back alleys and side streets to a neat, if somewhat rundown, little house. "He's with Himawari and Moro, but he can see things Moro and I can't, so...."

Shizuka nodded and didn't take the time to kick off his shoes. Himawari appeared, her eyes wide and frantic. "We put him by the household shrine," she said, "but he's in a corner, and he won't come out...."

"Show me," Shizuka said, and she did, pointing into a small room. A girl with pink hair in a white, lacy dress, accented by clunky zip-up boots and a spiked collar identical to Maru's, was kneeling next to Watanuki.

Watanuki was tracking things that Shizuka couldn't see, his eyes darting back and forth and his breath coming in pants. His lower lip was ripped, the ring gone and blood trailing down his chin.

"I've got him," Shizuka said to the girl. "Could someone get a bowl of water and a washcloth?" Why hadn't they tried that already?

"I'll do it," said the girl with pink hair. "He wouldn't let any of us touch him after we got him here."

Watanuki was jerking as they spoke, his eyes wild and little muffled groans working their way out past clenched teeth.

"Watanuki," Shizuka said. Watanuki turned blindly towards his voice; it was obvious the other boy couldn't see him.

"Watanuki," Shizuka said again, and knelt next to him. He grabbed one of the boy's hands, wrapped tight and white-knuckled around his knees. "Watanuki, it's Doumeki."

"What're you doin' here?"

"Helping you." Shizuka half-tugged Watanuki out of the corner and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "What was that you said Yuuko-san said about me, months ago? I keep the bad ghosts away, right?"

"You keep negative ghosts away, cretin," Watanuki spat half-heartedly, but he leaned into Shizuka and his breathing was easier. "You aren't magic Ghost-B-Gone, so shut up."

"But it's getting better, right?"

"Yeah," Watanuki admitted, grudgingly. "A bit. I can actually see now." His eyes did seem to be focusing better, Shizuka thought.

"Here's the water," Himawari said. She handed a small bowl full of water to Shizuka. "Maru warded it. And Moro's giving Yuuko-san a call," she added, giving Watanuki a tentative glance. The boy groaned, then yelped when Shizuka began to clean his face.

"I can't afford Yuuko-san," Watanuki said desolately. "I'm already in debt for all the tats on my back, and I've just finished paying off the ones on my arms!"

Shizuka managed, most likely through discipline instilled by kyudou, meditation, and his grandfather's teachings, to not wonder what Watanuki looked like beneath his clothes. "I'll pay," he said instead. "I don't owe her anything. If she asks for payment, I'll pay it."

Watanuki glared at him. "You're a twit," he said, scathingly. Shizuka shrugged the shoulder that wasn't bracing Watanuki.

"Who's the one with a torn lip that might get infected?" he asked, wiping up the last of the dried blood. Watanuki scowled at him.

"It's not my fault," he grumbled, but it was just grumbling--Shizuka had a feeling most of the truly bothersome spirits were gone.

"How did your lip get torn, anyway? That girl mentioned the police."

Watanuki didn't look at him. "Technically," he said, "feeding the homeless in a public place is illegal. Well, encouraging them to gather in a group of more than a couple is illegal, too, but I'm not sure. Anyway, the cops come by a lot to break it up, make us go home, you know. Anyway, this guy--I guess he didn't like what I was saying, or something, and he hit me, and his wedding ring caught my lip ring with the stone, and...."

"Quit talking," Shizuka said, watching as blood began to seep from Watanuki's lip again. "Wait until Yuuko-san shows up and fixes your lip."

"I can't pay--"

"I'll pay, moron," Shizuka said, and gave Watanuki a little shake. "Don't be such an ass."

***

**Pending Investigation**

She knew the moment he walked into their parlor. Kurogane made a loud growling noise, and Fai stopped whatever he was doing to say, "Why, hello Inspector Reed! We haven't seen you in a while!"

"Good thing," Kurogane muttered. "One of them is bad enough."

"Now, now, Kurogane-san," the creep said, "that's no way to talk. Especially since I am consistently asked about all the suspicious incidents that happen to patrons of your shop." There was a pause, and then, "Is the lovely lady of the house in?"

"Save your breath, flatterer," Yuuko said, as she lifted up the cloth curtain. "I'm back here, giving my helper another tattoo. If you have anything to ask me, you can do it here." She pointedly eyed the girl getting a navel piercing behind the desk, and the two rather tough-looking customers sitting in the chairs. "You're bad for business."

Reed gave her an innocent smile. "Surely not I?"

"You look too much like someone respectable," she explained. "Come along, now."

He followed her into the back room, selecting a stool out of the way. Yuuko returned to Watanuki, who waited patiently on the table. She was doing one of his shoulders now, though there wasn't much left to do.

"Another tattoo, Watanuki-kun?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, breathing slowly and evenly as she applied the tattoo gun. This kanji was nearly done; as always, the creep had good timing. She finished filling in the lowest stroke of the character with black ink, infused as it all was with the strongest warding spells she could manage. She wiped the ink away almost without thinking, and Watanuki was still and silent beneath the needle. He was so good at this now, and she never had to tell him to stay still anymore.

"Okay, Watanuki," she said. "That's another one done."

He sat up and gingerly stretched his shoulder. "Thank you," he said. "I'll come in early tomorrow to start work."

"You're such a good boy," she said, and waved him away. Her attention turned to her instruments, cleaning them and settling them back where they belonged.

"So what brings you here today?" she asked, turning at last and giving him a smile. He leaned back and batted his eyes at her.

"The usual," he said. He returned her smile with one of his own. "One of my police friends is getting rather uncomfortable with the number of incidents he has to track, regarding your customers."

"And what did you say?" Yuuko asked, as she sidled up next to him. Today she was wearing a “classic punk” outfit, complete with fishnet stockings and a short skirt.

Clow Reed smiled. "That you have nothing to do with it, of course," he said. "People choose their own happiness."

Yuuko nodded. "There's only so much I can do," she said. "I'm glad you realize that."

"You wouldn't let me into the back room otherwise," he said. She gave him a grin and straddled him.

"So what brings you here today, aside from the usual?"

He tilted his head. "Have you ever thought about children? I've got sketches."

"Oh?" Yuuko slid one hand inside his coat. "I'd like to see them."

***

**Dumpster Party**

"Why do you always have to dig through the trash?"

"Shut up," Watanuki snarled. Himawari shared a glance with Maru and Moro, and all three girls began to giggle madly.

It was late at night, but the Ginza district was still glowing with busy lights, bars and late-night stores and cars. It would be garbage day in about five hours; they were dumpster diving, as Maru and Moro wanted some new decorations for their small house. Of course they had to invite Watanuki and his friend Doumeki, to help if they got anything heavy.

Maru held one of Himawari's hands tightly and kept a wary eye out. Moro did the same on the other side of them. They were on the Ginza, but even with Watanuki and Doumeki, there could be trouble. Maru wore her spiked bracelets, and Moro wore her clunky boots, but Himawari wasn't afraid. They could take anyone who wanted to cause trouble--though they wouldn't go looking for it.

"Here's a good one," Watanuki said up ahead. They were behind a ritzy, kind of kitschy store, and a bar's neon lights lit up the alley just a few doors down. The dumpster was full with furniture, throw pillows, desk lamps, and little statuettes still packed in boxes.

"Wow," Moro said. "They must have had a real downer on these to throw them all out."

"Yeah," Maru said. Watanuki clambered into the dumpster with practiced ease, rubber gloves covering his hands and a lit flashlight held up high.

"This must've been thrown out today," he said. "And there's plenty here--"

"We have company," Doumeki said mildly, and Himawari suddenly saw the pair on the other side of the dumpster.

"Sakura-chan," Watanuki said. "Syaoran-kun--"

"We wanted some pillows," Sakura said, as she held up a cloth bag stuffed with throw pillows. "We have to wash them, since they kind of smell, but--"

"You know what that means," Himawari said, and Maru and Moro cheered.

"Dumpster party!" they chorused quietly. Maru pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and pulled them on, and then she climbed into the dumpster with Watanuki and the two of them began to shift things around. Moro bounced on her toes a little, glancing behind them to the street, and Doumeki kept an eye in the other direction.

Himawari waited. Watanuki kept holding up things--a pillow, a lamp--and Doumeki would make some comment that would make Watanuki nearly boil. Maru had an easier time of it.

"A lamp," she and Moro chorused, as she held up a packaged lamp. Himawari scrutinized it in the dim light.

"It's wall-mounted," she said. Moro stretched up on her toes to get a closer look.

"I could wire it," she said, careful not to touch the box with her bare hands.

"I like the design," Himawari said. Maru nodded sharply, and Himawari slung a sack off her shoulder and held it open for the lamp.

"Pillows next," Moro said. "We always need more pillows."

Maru gave her a look, and dug around for pillows. Watanuki passed her a few while he berated Doumeki in a quiet voice.

"--stupid, of course we wear gloves, it's unsanitary otherwise...."

"I wasn't sure," came Doumeki's bland response. Himawari giggled as she and Moro picked out the pillows. Doumeki was a good match for Watanuki, and that made Himawari happy for him.

It was good that Watanuki would have what she did. It could be so horrible, being lonely.

It swept over them, then; a breeze, or a wild wind, and suddenly Syaoran was squeaking and Watanuki was making a loudly muffled noise and Maru was leaning over the dumpster rim, her arms around Himawari's shoulders and her lips on Himawari's neck. Moro had left off lookout status and cuddled up Himawari's other side, her breasts pressing against Himawari's arm and back, and her mouth feathering little kisses under Himawari's ear.

Himawari reached out for Maru and leaned back into Moro, cupping Maru's shoulder and Moro's cheek, stroking down and under Maru's arm to her breast and tilting her head back to catch Moro's lips in a kiss. The alleyway stank of garbage and old beer, car exhaust and that smell that crowded cities develop--that sad smell that pervades everything. Himawari didn't care. She had Maru in front of her, with her blue hair in tight braids all wound back out of her way, and Maru just behind her, with her warm mouth, sweet eyes and gently beating heart. It was warm and wonderful and Himawari felt as though she held seedlings in her hands, seedlings in the hearts of her lovers taking root and growing around her fingers, towards her own beating heart.

And even in this large tired city, it was enough.

***

**After the Dumpster Party**

"What the hell was all that about?!"

Shizuka plugged his ears as Watanuki climbed out of the dumpster, his face red and his lips dark.

"I thought we were kissing."

"I know that!" Watanuki quietly screamed. "Why were we kissing, I'd like to know?!"

Shizuka pondered this while Watanuki climbed out of the dumpster. They'd done a little more than kissing, actually; but it was difficult to do much else when one half of the kissing party was half in a dumpster and barely keeping his balance.

"It happened to the others, too," he said at last. Syaoran had emerged from the dumpster not only thoroughly kissed, but too stunned to do much besides smile. He and Sakura had escaped shortly after that; Shizuka hadn't been paying attention. Kunogi had stumbled off after them, tugging Maru and Moro along and leaving their bag on the ground.

"I know," Watanuki said, remarkably patient for him. "What I want to know is why."

"It could have been a spirit," Shizuka ventured, as he picked up Kunogi's discarded sack. He and Watanuki could deliver it later.

"You're supposed to keep those away!"

Shizuka stuck a free finger in his ear. "It was pointed out to me recently that I only repel negative spirits," he said. "I think that means positive ones are free to come and go no matter where I am."

"So--you're saying...that was all...."

"Something positive," Shizuka said. Watanuki was pale, even under the horrible light provided by the street lamps.

"Urgh," he said at last. "It's too late to deal with you."

Shizuka shrugged and followed him down the street, ignoring the stares from the few passerby and focusing on Watanuki's irritated stride homeward. All in all, it had actually been a very interesting night.

***

**Tattoo Parlor**

Shizuka flipped idly through the books, the ones for the various tattoo designs that were offered at the parlor. Of course, if one knew what to ask for, the foreigner Fai would give one a charmed, magical tattoo, and Yuuko-san could give one a number of different, specialized tattoos. Kurogane-san, as far as Shizuka knew, did not do tattoos at all, but instead worked as the parlor's piercer.

"So you're here for another tattoo," Shizuka said, more a statement than a question, as Watanuki shed his shirt and jacket. He had tattoos--a combination of calligraphic kanji and special warding signs--writhing over his back, shoulders, and biceps. Shizuka had seen them many times by now--it had been a long time since that day they met, when Shizuka was still in high school--but he never really got tired of looking at them.

"Yeah," Watanuki said. "I'm going to get a pipe fox spirit going around my hip," he said, tracing the path of the soon-to-be tattoo. "Yuuko-san it will draw protective energies, since Mugetsu likes me so much."

"So it'll be like having Mugetsu with you all the time," Shizuka said, and Watanuki nodded. That was good. It would make it easier to go to work and school, without that fear for Watanuki a constant presence in his mind.

He flipped through a few more pages of tattoo artwork. At last he got tired of it and pulled out one of the catalogs displaying the different piercing options. Eyebrows, lips, noses, ears--pages upon pages of possibilities for those, which made Shizuka raise an eyebrow in surprise--shoulder blades, throat, nipples, navel....

~~~

Watanuki pulled himself onto the table, waiting for Yuuko to be finished with another customer. Doumeki wandered over, still flipping through the catalog.

"Oi," he said, and Watanuki glanced over, a little annoyed.

"What?"

"You're not getting one of these, are you?" Doumeki asked, turning the catalog and pointing. Watanuki could feel his face heating up, could feel the temperature of his blood shooting through the roof.

"NO," he screeched. In another room, a customer yelped. "I'M NOT PIERCING THAT!"

"Good," Doumeki said, removing his finger from his ear. "'Cause I'd like to be on the bottom, and I don't think I'd let you top if you got it pierced."

Watanuki was floored speechless. He wanted to say something, but the only thing that occurred to him was an endless stream of mortified syllables.

"Although," Doumeki said, "I have thought of getting my tongue pierced."

Watanuki finally closed his mouth. "What?"

Doumeki gave him that look--that Look, that said he'd quite happily drag Watanuki beneath the table and do very publicly inappropriate things to him if given half a chance and the right provocation. His boyfriend was such a perv.

"I thought you might like it," was all Doumeki said. Watanuki said something which approximated the sound of "Guh" and gathered what little he could of his brain.

"Get out, you jerk," he spat at last. "Go harass the other paying customers with your--your--you!"

Doumeki raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted it exclusively," he said.

"OUT," Watanuki snarled, and Doumeki just shrugged and dropped the catalog on the table.

"You might want to think about the nipples," he said as he left. Watanuki made a strangled noise deep in his throat.

That...that...that....

"Well," Yuuko said, her voice amused, "that little show was a good start to your payment on this tattoo, Watanuki."

"Good," he said. "If my boyfriend has to be a perverted jerk, at least I can pay for my tattoos with him."

She chuckled. "Okay," she said. "Pull those jeans down, mister, and don't get fresh."

He rolled his eyes heavenward and did as she asked. "I couldn't afford to get fresh even if I wanted to," he said, and she chuckled again.

"Very true," was her response, as she swabbed the skin and began preparing the ink.

***

**Surprise**

Watanuki sat back and gave his boyfriend a look. "What do you mean, a surprise?"

"I think you'll like it," was all Doumeki said.

"That could mean any number of terrible things," Watanuki pointed out.

"Like what?"

"Like--like--things," Watanuki said. He wasn't going to mention half the horrible things that crossed his mind right away. He leaned back against the wall, his legs crossed and the futon cushioning him against the floor. Doumeki waltzed in from the kitchen, his socks silent on the floor and the top button of his shirt undone. He had been away nearly a month and Watanuki was rather reluctant to admit he had missed the jerk.

Doumeki sank down on the futon and leaned close enough to breathe in Watanuki's space. Watanuki thought about telling him to mind his own personal space, but it had been so long since he had been this close to Doumeki. Even if it was Doumeki. Maybe because it was.

One thing led to another, the way it usually did. The “surprise” had largely fled Watanuki's mind by the time he slid a hand inside Doumeki's shirt and felt something that had not been there a month ago.

He pulled back--barely registered Doumeki's noise of complaint--and stared at the ring in Doumeki's nipple. He must have stared for quite a while. At last Doumeki sighed.

"It's just a ring."

"It--I--you got--and...."

"I did say you ought to think about the nipples," Doumeki said, and his voice had slid into that lower register that Watanuki always found rather riveting.

"I thought you meant...."

Doumeki shrugged--which, Watanuki thought, made that shirt slide down his shoulders in a very unfair way. "It's kind of boring when only one of us is decorated," he said. "And I thought you'd like it."

"Er," Watanuki said. "Well...we'd have to test that theory."

"We would." Doumeki idly popped open another button on the shirt, and shrugged again. "It'll heal up if you don't like it."

"Well," Watanuki said, “I suppose I could give it a try. Since—since, you know, you're really more straight laced than me, so....”

“Watanuki,” Doumeki said. “Shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally written and posted almost ten years ago. Time flies!
> 
>  
> 
> 1) The Stalin was actually a Japanese punk band from the early '80's.  
> 2) Dumpster diving can, in fact, be feasible. There's even a community for it on LJ if you're curious. (I've never dived, but I have "alley-catted" as a friend puts it.)  
> 3) Food Not Bombs is an actual organization, and sometimes individual groups will dumpster their food.  
> 4) I don't know about Japan, but in the US groups of FnBs have actually been arrested for serving homeless people free food. The police brutality in this, however, is purely so Doumeki can be a good comforting boyfriend.  
> 5) The piercing Watanuki is so against is called a Prince Albert. It's a piercing only biologically male people* can get, and it's usually placed in the head of the penis. While one can have safe, non-painful sex with a guy with a PA, Doumeki is understandably cautious about it. (*Though there might be a piercing biologically female people can get, as well, but I don't know if it's called something different or not.)  
> 6) Freegans are people who largely live off dumpster diving their food, as they believe it is both better for the environment and essential to becoming non-consumers. It's not for me, but I thought I'd throw it in there just for fun. :)


End file.
